On the outside looking in
by whotakesthesepictures
Summary: They're different when they think no one is looking. They smile a lot more. They joke. They touch. ONESHOT- first R&I fic, second fic in life so any feedback would be greatly appreciated, good or bad.


**Disclaimer:** Own nothing, characters belong to TNT, Tess Gerritsen and Janet Tamaro.

**"On the outside looking in"**

Two people meet at the end of a street. It's too dark and you're too far way to see their facial expressions or hear a fraction of their conversation. However, it doesn't matter, one can see from the aura that surrounds them that they are comfortable with each other.

They have an easy way of interacting, like it's something familiar that doesn't need the bother of resettling boundaries from one time they meet to the next. They walk like a dance, one step at a time, one to the side, and another one back if only to see if the other follows. It takes practice to become so in sync with another being, but it doesn't surprise me knowing a fraction of what they've been through together in a five year span, likely more than any other person would fear to come by in a lifetime.

They continue their dance, and every time it's a little different, but somehow they still manage to follow the same path. They always reach their destination. Sometimes it might take some pain and heartache, but one thing never changes, they always find the way together.

* * *

I wouldn't consider myself overly curious, but I know that some people might disagree.

I guess there might be some truth to it, as I catch myself watching them almost every day. I really can't blame myself though, when you live in a dreary world and see all the wrong that is being done to people, you can't help but hold on to the things that make you smile. For me, watching those two women interact brings me a calmness not very much else has been able to in the turmoil that has been these last couple of years.

It soothes me to know that two people can care about each other the way those two so obviously do. It might be silly of me, but it brings me some sense of hope.

They live harsh lives. One of them is the Medical Examiner for Boston and is faced with death more gruesome and cruel than I would ever wish for my worst enemy to cross.

I can't imagine everything that must be running though her head when she's elbow deep in human decay, being forced to see what should never be seen if one was still healthy and running around without a care in the world. I don't know how she does it. Where she should hold so much anger towards the human race as a whole because we're able to do so much damage to another soul, she has the ability to still smile at the end of the day. I guess it comes with the job, to be able to compartmentalize so you don't lose yourself as a person at the end of it all. One would never guess she's faced with death every day if you happen to find her in the park on a Sunday afternoon. She radiates warmth and a kindness one would have easier to imagine coming from a child than a grown woman. Someone around her is doing a great job keeping her sane thought it all.

She has a certain way about her that makes it alright to know that one day will be your last on this earth. I know I wouldn't mind ending up on her table if my day should come too soon. She would take care of me and give me the peace I would want for my children in the aftermath. I guess she's at an advantage, because she can easily use her warmth and direct it towards those who linger in doubt, ready for a reason behind a loved one's departure from this world. They have that in common.

I used to think a medical examiner that lives that close to death can feel it like a second skin, making them less human and more at ease with what we will all end up as one day, dead, cold, forgotten. Now I know I was wrong. Every death is just as tragic and tears her down another fraction.

The Medical Examiner will never be that. Forgotten. Her legacy would make sure of that. And I'm not talking about the legacy she inherited with her family name. No, I'm talking about the lingering feeling of serenity she leaves with the person who is lucky enough to get to call her a friend or a colleague. I know I'm repeating myself, but it's such a refreshing approach to life that should not be taken for granted.

She shines with a refreshing curiosity for life and everything there is to explore, and sometimes the result is a thrill with a childlike innocence no one could fake. I really wish she had come into the other woman's life a little bit earlier. It would have made all the difference in the world. However I'm not one to linger too much on the past, it rarely does one any good. I always try to look ahead instead of the things I wish I could have done something about even though I know my advances would have been futile. She's there for her now, and that is all that matters.

It's funny how they're both so strong on their own, and somehow they manage to seem invincible together. If you find yourself just observing them it's hard to see where one ends and the other one starts. Looking back I think you could sense from the very start of their friendship how the lines got blurry.

The other one is a Homicide Detective for Boston Police Department. The youngest person to ever become a detective, the first female. She was compared to a raging storm, entering the department and showing them how things could have been better years before if she had only been old enough to enter their ranks. When she first came she had it all. The fire and spark, the curiosity and ability to think outside the box, not to mention she was the perfect poster girl even if no one in their right mind would dare mention this to her face. She was never one for special treatment based on her sex. Even today she would kick someone's rear for trying to make her job easier just because she wears mascara on a rare occasion. She had it all. Until she learned the hard way that no one is invincible.

I read the papers, and I won't even try to set words on the hell she must have been through. They called him the Surgeon. I'll leave it at that. Her scars are enough to speak volumes.

Luckily, it's rare to see one without the other standing by, ready to defend, to comfort, to be there.

They have been through hell and back, always together. Lord knows the newspapers didn't draw a pretty picture of what they must have been through.

* * *

The sun has reached its destination for the day and I know dusk is upon us. Just like I know that in about an hour the two women will have finished work if no major case has come their way, and they'll arrive back at the doctor's house ready to settle in for the night.

Its Friday today, which means there will be Chinese take away in the bags the detective will be carrying, and a couple of cannolies for dessert. I know for a fact that the doctor would have never set her teeth in the sugary mass if it hadn't been passed from the detectives scarred hands. However, that's just one of the things they would do for each other. They make small sacrifices, and live and grow together.

It's been unusually warm today, and the sun has taken longer to settle than earlier this spring. I know the kitchen window will be open enough for a breeze to make its way through the living room where they sit. I know all these things I shouldn't know because I keep catching myself watching them. I know I shouldn't, but there's just something so comforting knowing that they have found each other and are being taken care of in a way I used to only wish for with my own children.

That they find someone who makes them feel like they can be themselves without being afraid to explore their own limits and come to terms with their restrictions. To be open to new experiences without judgment and with a hint of pure curiosity. I want what they have. That calmness that comes over them when they think no one is watching, that comes when you're with someone you don't have to pretend with, someone who know you at your best and your worst and is still there if the pieces ever needs to be picked up. Someone who loves you unconditionally, quirks and all. Someone like Maura for Jane and vise versa.

* * *

Sometimes I wonder if the rumors are true. That they are more than just the best of friends. I've never been much for rumors, but this one I don't mind. They work so well together that I have tried but failed oh so many times to see who or what could possibly compete with the feelings and the trust they have in each other. I know there have been times where they've both tried and failed, but somehow I think it just made them realize that nothing could really compare. So even if it hurt to see them straying away from what I think would have been the easiest path for them, I think it's been necessary for them to follow a journey so they could come to where they are now on their own without anyone pushing them for something they wouldn't have been ready for at the time.

I think they have finally come to terms with something that would be hard for me to define. They're different when they think no one is looking, when they don't have to be the first female Medical Examiner of Boston, and one of their finest detectives.

They smile a lot more. They joke. They touch.

I wish it could always be this easy for them.

If they had been anyone else they wouldn't have to keep up their appearances like they do when surrounded by constant scrutinizing in the public eye.

No, if you happen to be in the park when they take what I assume has become much more their dog than simply the detective's out for a walk on a breezy Sunday morning; you'd observe two women without a worry in the word. Even if one of them is trying to change the other opinion on how many coffee's the body needs before it will overdose on caffeine.

"-Two Jane, you'll never be able to sit still and keep your hands from shaking at dinner, and you don't want your mother worrying, do you?"

"-Maur... You always do this! I like coffee, and coffee likes me, alright?"

They communicate in a way where words appear superfluous. One look from the honey blonde and the detective's coffee meets its end at the top of the stuffed trash bin.

"Don't look at me like that! You're the one who threw it away; my hand did not force your hand into action!"

"Yeah, right."

* * *

I happened last night just as I was getting settled in for the night. I needed a glass of water before bed and like always my gaze landed on the Doctor's house, and just as I was taking a sip and the cool water had just made contact with my lips I could see them in the kitchen. The brunette standing by the sink reaching for something in the above cupboard, laughing from something I assume the doctor had just tried to explain. She does that sometimes you know, and even if the detective would say she hates the little lessons over what would refer to as "the silliest little thing", I know in my heart she enjoys every word coming from the other woman. Her hands were still bringing down the wineglass as the honey blondes arms snuck around the taller woman gently smiling, giving her a kiss on the cheek before the Detective caught on and turned in her arms to give her a soft peck on the lips in return. Like a habit. That's how it appeared. There was no squirming or awkward pauses; it was just simply two people meeting in the same place at the same time, catching the moment with a kiss.

I know they're not ready to tell us anything just yet, and I'm alright with that, but they must know how everyone has been rooting for them to finally catch on to everything that's been there all along between them. I can't keep the grin off my face.

What can I say? I've always wanted my Janie to date a doctor.

Warning, mushy moment:** Dedicated to my beloved Kiwi who tried to correct this but I probably uncorrected her correction. She's .. well, everything. **


End file.
